THE FIRST DREAM

This is a re-write

The First Dream

He wanted, first, to be a dancer.
No!, I speak wrongly! he wanted

to be The Dance, to be through his body
a mural of shapes, motion and beats,
to write a rhythm of graffiti,
geometric, abstract, instant,
in the spaces of the eye.

But he lived in a denim, testosterone
world, truck drivers, pile drivers, brick pilers,
meat packers, bone crackers, wife smackers-
acceptable arts, boozing, boxing, bowling,
the only manly movement meters, wedding

waltzes, foxtrots and polka-vigor stomps-
no mentors here, of beauty over balls.

And he already a suspect child.

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About elrondsilvermaul

I never know what to say about myself. I let what I write try to speak as to who I am. I can only add, here, that I am 72, live in a nursing home, am twenty years a cancer survivor, and identify as a gay male. I intend to use this blog as storage for poems? written over the long years (and still being written). This does not preclude other uses.
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One Response to THE FIRST DREAM

  1. Judy Amy says:

    I love this poem. I am so glad I found your blog. I am looking forward to visiting again very soon. Cheers!

    Like

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